Just Harry
by musicprincess1990
Summary: "To them, he was The Boy Who Lived. But there was one person..." Harry reflects on his life, and love. Fluffy Harmony! Review, please!


A/N: This is what happens when I'm not in the mood to go to bed. My mind runs amok, and I come up with all kinds of randomness. In this case, it's not too crazy, but still a little random. Short, fluffy one-shot, anyone? ;) Here you go!

Disclaimer: I don't even own this computer...

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><p>To them, he was The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The number one most eligible bachelor in <em>Witch Weekly<em>. A hundred other nicknames similar to these.

This was true of almost everyone he knew. Even the Weasleys. Well, except for Molly and Arthur. They were basically his surrogate parents, and they loved him as such. Harry could never repay them for all the love and kindness they'd shown him. But all their children still viewed him as "the famous Harry Potter."

George always asked him to come by the shop and have a look at the products he'd made with Harry's face—candies, dolls, and some things Harry wished he hadn't thought up. Percy always called him by his full name, and shook his hand vigorously every time they met. Charlie and Bill, he rarely saw, but they acted much like Percy. Even Ron and Ginny seemed affected by his fame. Ron's stories of their travels during the war grew more elaborate (and farther from the truth) with each passing year. And Ginny—his own girlfriend!—was often seen posing for various photographers on occasions when he was forced to go out, and she tagged along with him. It was sickening.

For this reason, it was no surprise that the relationship didn't last very long. In fact, _none_ of his relationships made it past the three-month mark. And it was because they all wanted him to be this great hero, this knight in shining armor. Well, he'd had about enough of that to last him three lifetimes.

But there was one person...

One person who understood him. Who accepted him for what he was: a shy, quietly brave, average man, to whom fate just happened to throw a crap hand. One person, in all the world, who saw him as _just Harry_, and nothing more.

It didn't take long for him to realize this, and within just a few short weeks of his last breakup—a silly blonde fan girl, who tried to hide her creepy and unnatural obsession with him—Harry Potter and Hermione Granger became a couple. It was the first of his relationships to reach four months... then five... then six... and so on, until, on their one-year anniversary, he asked her to marry him.

The wedding was a quiet affair, with only her parents, Arthur, Molly, Kingsley, and Teddy present. They honeymooned in Paris, spending a weekend in the beautiful city of love, then quickly returning home to their jobs and their usual schedules.

Almost two years into the marriage, Hermione broke the news to Harry that he was going to be a father. Nine months later, she brought Lily Elizabeth Potter into the world. Barely more than a year later, the twins, James and Sirius, were born, and were followed closely by little Rosalie.

On a quiet December night, Harry lay awake, silently contemplating his life. It wasn't perfect, by any means, but he was certain it was as close as anyone could get. He smiled, thinking of all the wonderful years he'd spent with his beloved wife and best friend, and all the years they would have together still.

His thoughts were interrupted as Hermione—heavily pregnant with their fifth child—rose from their bed to make a trip to the bathroom. When she got back, he was sitting up. She paused in the doorway, eyeing him carefully.

"Harry?" she whispered. "You okay?"

He smiled and nodded. She seemed dubious, but merely shrugged, and got back into bed. Harry rolled onto his side, hugging Hermione from behind, his hand splayed across her swollen belly. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you happy?"

She turned her head a fraction of an inch towards him. "Of course," she replied.

"Me too. Hey, 'Mione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

He paused for a moment, trying to find the words. When none seemed good enough, he settled for a simple, "I love you," hoping she'd be able to fill in the blanks.

"I love you too, Harry." A tiny smile graced her lips, before she closed her eyes, and her breathing became slow and rhythmic.

Harry placed a kiss on her brow, before laying his head back on his own pillow. It was moments like these—moments when he was _just Harry_—that he felt like he'd truly found his place in the world. With a smile on his face, he drifted off to sleep.

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><p>AN: Super short, and ridiculously fluffy, but it just kind of popped into my head. I know I used the same names that are actually in the book, but it's late at night, and my name-creativity is wearing thin. As is my consciousness... ahem. Anyways, hope you liked this little bit of fluff. Review!


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